Benedictio Amarus
by Amarylle
Summary: A few weeks after a night of desperate comfort on the run spirals way out of hand, Hermione Granger discovers she is pregnant. The father of the unborn baby is engaged to be wed, and wants nothing to do with either of them. Who steps up to take care of them, and what happens when the truth gets out?
1. Pregnancy

**Disclaimer:** The wonderful world of Harry Potter and the canon characters belong to J.K Rowling and I am only borrowing them to write for my and other people's enjoyment, without any intention of profiting from it. I thank this creative lady for blessing us with such a rich ground to build up our creativity on!

* * *

"Hermione, are you feeling alright?" Emma Granger asked in growing concern, as she saw her daughter dizzily grasp onto the nearest wall, frantically trying to breathe.

After the war was finally over and done with, and the survivors paid their respects to the fallen, Hermione gathered her few earthly belongings, and set out to find her parents to recover their memories. They were delighted to remember their daughter again, and enthusiastically started the preparations for moving back to Britain.

The muggleborn witch was glad she had the common sense to discuss her plans with them beforehand, because she knew that the situation would have played out painfully different otherwise, and they would never truly trust her again, and that was simply unthinkable to the witch.

Minister Shacklebolt had aided her both in her search, and in providing a qualified team of _Obliviators_ to reverse her spell. She was thankful for the Ministry's assistance, but Kingsley casually waved it off, saying that she was a _War Heroine_ , and this was the least that they could do for her.

Hermione and her parents, Daniel and Emma Granger were currently still residing in Australia, settling her parents' legal affairs in order, and visiting a few tourist attractions while they were at it, enjoying each other's company to the fullest.

The only downside of happy family time was their daughter's frequent fainting spells, and seemingly random bouts of weakness. She got tired easily, she was moodier than usual, and she had a lot of headaches. They chalked it all up to the left-over effects of the war, until she had experienced nausea, and a suspicious aversion to certain foods that she had previously enjoyed the taste and smell of.

That was the moment when she grabbed her wand in a slightly panicked motion, and performed the spell that Madame Pomfrey had taught to every female student the moment their attention turned to the opposite sex. Hearing _The Talk_ from a medical professional, and a witch at that, was definitely an interesting experience, which included a lot of scandalous blushing, and sheer disbelief from her more conservative, muggle point of view.

She had a hard time processing the casual acceptance of teenage sexual curiosity in wizarding society, and she was shocked at the many stories the Hogwarts Healer regaled her with, proving that it was necessary that she knew how to take care of herself, and learn the _Contraceptive_ and _Pregnancy Detection Charms_ , respectively.

The matron had also taught her how to brew the _Contraception Potion_ , and even urged her to drink it every month, even if she insisted that she had absolutely no inclination, or lustful drive to engage in sexual intercourse. Especially at the age of fourteen.

Now that she double, triple, quadruple, and even quintuple checked with a pile of different muggle pregnancy tests aiding her frantic need for a decent amount of tangible proof of her current predicament, she couldn't help but feel faint and sick to her stomach.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong?" Emma's voice echoed, as she tenderly touched her daughter's face.

"I am pregnant." She choked, her hands shaking.

Her mother's eyes widened. "Oh my..., it seems like there was something _significant_ that you omitted out of your tales." She chided softly, but drew her daughter into a warm embrace. "Is the father Harry, or Ron?" She asked hesitantly.

"Harry." The witch with the honey coloured eyes whispered quietly, and promptly burst into tears, before crumpling on the floor.

* * *

 **A/N:** This is the prologue of another idea that has been flickering around in my head for the past few days, because I can actually imagine this could have happened on the run, when Ron left Harry and Hermione to their own devices.

I am yet undecided of who will step up to take care of her and the baby, but be warned that in this story Sirius and Remus, and even Fred are still alive. That doesn't mean that one of them will end up with her, but it's a possibility.

The title roughly translates to _"Bitter Blessing"_.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Flashback & Confrontation

Hermione was pacing the length and breadth of her room in the Granger family home in the outskirts of Norwich, England. It had been a week since she had found out that she was carrying Harry Potter's child under her heart, and only a day since they arrived home from Australia.

She had a major panic attack when she discovered she was pregnant, and her parents had to administer some natural medicine to calm her down, and they spent the rest of the day discussing the situation as a family.

They urged her to talk about the past seven years candidly, without leaving out the unpleasant gory details, and she indulged their curiosity. The elder Grangers listened to her attentively, and gasped, cried, laughed, and seethed with white hot anger at certain parts of her tale.

Hermione stumbled all over her words when it came to the recollection of the run, especially the part where Ronald had left them to their own devices. Her father's face was glowing in a spectacular mixture of bright red and dark vermilion colours, as his anger got a hold of him. He could not believe that one of her best friends, who should have been protecting her just left her side because of some magical artifact induced petty jealousies.

It did not matter that whatever the young lad was afraid of happened right after he left, because he firmly believed that his daughter would not have slept with her other best friend, if the redhead did not run out on them. Then again, he was also slightly disappointed that she chose to participate in the act of carnal comfort, because he hoped that she would save her most precious treasure for someone she was irrevocably and most certainly mutually in love with.

His face softened when the bright witch admitted that she had been harbouring tender feelings towards Harry, and to her, their moments of physical intimacy meant more than she could ever express.

She paused in her pacing and shut her eyes tightly, recalling the bittersweet memories, like she had been doing ever since she discovered the fruit of their stolen moments together.

 _It was a few days after Ronald Weasley stepped outside the parameters of their protective wards, and vanished wherever he planned to disappear to. The tent was quiet as they shrank into themselves in completely different corners of the room._

 _Hermione curled up on a worn-down leather arm-chair, hugging her knees against her chest, her hair falling all over her face in frizzy curls angling in every direction imaginable. Her shoulders were tense and slightly shaking as she quietly sobbed._

 _Harry was watching her from afar, stewing in his anger towards his best mate, and getting more and more frustrated with Hermione's pitiful hysterics. He understood that she was sad, but she wasn't the only one, and she wasn't the one who had to face this ordeal with the knowledge that he was so easily abandoned, because the circumstances were less than ideal._

 _He stood up from the couch, squared his shoulders, and marched his way towards the witch, halting a few steps in front of her._

" _You know, if it is so terribly unbearable for you to remain in my company, while you cry and pine away for someone who so easily deserted his best friends, then be my guest and follow in his footsteps." He bitterly spat._

 _Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes, an incredible amount of hurt reflecting in her glistening orbs. "I can't believe that after all these years of friendship you think I would just leave your side. You know me better than that." She choked, hugging herself tighter._

 _Harry's eyes softened slightly. "You are right, I am sorry." He whispered, and knelt in front of her. "Your tears will not bring him back, 'Mione. It's time to be real and accept that there is no changing what happened." He sighed, and ran a hand through his messy black hair, coming to a decision. "Come on." He said, and pulled her from the chair._

 _She gasped as her body collided with his, and she stared at him, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Harry, what on earth are you doing?"_

 _He simply grinned and took her wand from her, and with a firm swish of the vine-wood stick, he turned on the Wizarding W_ _ireless, and a soft melody began to play. She looked at him incredulously, and he wasted no time pulling her closer, leading them to gently sway together. As their awkward dancing progressed, a small smile curled her lips, and then he sneakily twirled her around, and a light giggle escaped her lips, causing Harry's grin to widen._

" _It's good to hear the sound of your laughter again." He whispered, and Hermione buried her face into the junction of his left shoulder and neck._

" _Thank you for making me relax." She replied, and held on to him tighter._

 _Harry pulled back slightly, and lifted her face to look at him. "I would do anything for you." He admitted, and his breath had caught in his throat at the sheer strength of unconditional love he saw sparkling in her bright eyes, and that was the moment that he realized she was in love with him._

 _Without giving another thought to the consequences, he leaned in and captured her lips in a searing kiss. Hermione floundered and hesitated, stumbling backwards, and fell on one of the mattresses, her back hitting the soft material with a whoosh._

 _As luck would have it, the raven-haired wizard slumped on top of her, his eyes darkening from bright emerald to smoldering jade, and she was lost._

" _Harry-" She whispered, but he halted her undoubtedly needless words with another kiss, and she couldn't help herself from giving into her desire, and kissing him back. His lips were slightly chapped, but it was not an unwelcome sensation._

 _One kiss turned into two, and in a matter of minutes they were heavily snogging each other, and his hands started to wander, itching to discover her most secret treasures._

" _Harry, we should stop." Hermione swallowed when his hands started to unbutton her washed out jeans. "I-, I have never-" She explained, but he interrupted._

" _Sh." He quieted her with another kiss that made her see stars. "I will take good care of you." He promised, and charmed her wavering hesitation into giving up control to him._

 _He made love to her gently the first time, and then gave into his lust and spent the rest of the night making her his in every sense of the word, without a care in the world._

 _It was the next morning when a thick fog of awkwardness fell on the two friends._

" _We should talk about last night." She suggested after she took a shower and dressed for the day._

 _Harry looked at her strangely. "Why should we? We both needed comfort, and that was all that it was, Hermione. You know that I love Ginny." He said crisply, and averted his gaze._

 _Hermione staggered slightly, her heart breaking. "Oh-" She swallowed her tears. "Yes, of course." She mumbled, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, and grabbed her wand. "I will go and strengthen the wards, then we can continue our research." She said, her voice adopting a cooler tone._

" _Alright, I will make us some breakfast." He replied, repressing the jolt of guilt that flooded him, knowing he used her feelings to his advantage. He wasn't sure what got into him, but he would blame it on the circumstances and the effects of the Horcrux. Ginny would never have to know..._

She spent that morning angrily throwing her magic into strengthening their wards, and acting like nothing happened between them, throwing herself into their research and planning how to acquire Riddle's next soul vessel.

Even so, ever since that night in the Forest of Dean, their friendship was fragmented, and they barely spoke two words to each other when she left to find her parents.

" _Be safe." He said to her with a small smile, and an awkward hug._

" _You too." She replied, ruffling his hair like she was used to doing as a sign of affection, and activated the Portkey._

Hermione took a deep breath, and grabbed a piece of parchment, dipping a quill into black ink, quickly scribbling a note. No matter how uncomfortable, she needed to inform him.

 _Harry,_

 _I've successfully recovered my parents' memories, and we are back in England._

 _Are you able to meet me tomorrow, say around noon, at the Leaky? I have something I would like to discuss with you._

She paused, and frowned at the parchment, and simply signed the letter ' _Hermione'_ , instead of writing her usual endearments at the end of it, because none of it felt right anymore, even if her heart belonged to him.

She sighed, folded her note, and gave it to her parents' new owl, _Aili_ , and carefully tied it to her talons. Reaching into a plain brown bowl, she lifted an owl nut, and offered it to the feathered creature with a gentle smile.

"Please take the letter to Harry, and wait for an answer." She requested. Aili nibbled on the treat, nipping at her fingers playfully and took off towards her destination.

~oo~oOo~oo~

The next day, Hermione disillusioned herself, and apparated to the muggle entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, on Charing Cross Road. She slipped inside, ending the spell she previously cloaked herself in, and looked around.

Her heart skipped a beat when her eyes fell on the lone figure sitting at one of the corner tables, sipping Butterbeer. He was dressed casually in fine muggle clothing, his hair carelessly fell over his eyes and neck in a thick black mess, but it looked absolutely endearing on him.

She swallowed her emotions, and slowly walked up to him.

"Hey." She greeted him softly. "Were you waiting long?" She inquired as she took off her bag, and slipped into a seat opposite him.

Harry looked up at the witch in front of him, and he had to admit to himself that she looked rather lovely. He never really paid attention to her femininity before, but that changed on the run. On that lonely Autumn night, he discovered how much of a woman his friend really was, and he knew he was attracted to her.

If he was honest with himself, he still lusted after her. Perhaps if Ginny did not exist they could have been something more than a fumble under the darkness of the night.

"Nah." He smiled. "I just arrived two minutes ago, and ordered a drink. Would you like something?" He inquired.

Hermione shook her head. "No thank you, I am fine."

He nodded. "How are your parents? Did they recover well?" He asked with mild interest, as he knew how important her family was to her.

She smiled a small smile. "Yeah. They are really excited to be back on their homeland. They told me that they had trouble adapting to the Australian climate when they moved there." She explained. "They are currently in the process of re-opening their practice."

"Ah." He hummed, and the atmosphere became rather awkward. He ran a hand through his hair and got straight to the point. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

She fidgeted a little, cast a quick privacy charm, and took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant." She whispered.

Harry felt like a bucket of ice was dumped on him, as a chill ran down his spine. He stared at the visibly nervous witch with wild emerald eyes. " _Excuse me?_ " He echoed. "What did you just say?" He asked in a dangerous tone.

Hermione swallowed, and repeated herself. "I said that I am pregnant."

Potter shook his head in denial, and asked a rather rude question. "What does that have to do with _me_?" He frowned.

She looked at him sharply. "You know full well _why_ I am telling you this. The baby is _yours_."

"For all I know, it could be _someone else's_." He spat, and inwardly winced how bad his accusation had sounded.

Hermione flinched at his words, all colour draining from her face. "I have only been with _you_ , and I know you are aware of my feelings for you." She choked.

Harry glanced at her, and steeled himself. "That doesn't mean I reciprocate your feelings, Hermione." He narrowed his eyes, and leaned over the table to whisper in her ear. "I am in love with Ginny, I worship the ground she walks on, we are engaged to be married, and you cannot compare to her. Now, I am not interested in you, or your _little problem_. If you ever attempt to even hint at, or insinuate that I have anything to do with your _condition_ , in any shape or form, I will ruin you, and that's a promise." He divulged, and chugged the rest of his drink.

He knew that he was harsh and unfair, but he had to let her know that he did not want to be connected to any of this. He couldn't jeopardize his relationship with his perfect wife-to-be, just because he had a weak moment. It was all Hermione's fault. She should have been more careful.

Hermione could not believe what she was hearing. She never suspected that Harry could be _so_ cold. "I understand that you are not thrilled at the prospect of becoming a father, but I never imagined you could be so _cruel_." She whispered with tears in her eyes.

He shrugged. "I am just educating you on the facts of life, sweetheart. It's your fault really."

Hermione stared at him in sheer disbelief. "I believe it's better if we don't see each other for a while, if at all." She swallowed. "I don't even know who you are anymore."

He smirked. "Why, I am _Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Conquered_ , and you would do well to remember that I have all the influence you sadly lack, which is why you better keep all of this to yourself. I was not kidding when I said I would ruin you, if you slipped up. Are we clear?"

" _Crystal._ " She glared at him, digging her nails into the soft flesh of her palm, her knuckles becoming white from the pressure.

"Fantastic." He grinned at her, and threw a few galleons on the table. "Do stop by at the Burrow sometime, Ron is just _aching_ to see you." He laughed, and left the establishment, leaving a thoroughly angry and humiliated witch in his wake.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, that was... different to write. I never actually indulged in writing a Harry that had such a cruel strike to him before. Can we say that the Horcrux damaged his brain? Although that's not part of the story, but I am willing to blame the Horcrux. He was a complete jackass.

My poor Hermione. ;u;

Also do you think that I should switch the rating to M, or am I safe with the current rating?

Furthermore, who would you like Hermione to meet first? Remus? Sirius? Severus? A Random Slytherin? Weasley Twins? Fleur? Luna? Let me know, and I will write the next chapter with what the majority of you decide on.

Thank you for reading!


	3. Plotting & Gaining A Friend

Harry exited the Leaky Cauldron with a frown on his face, his emotional turmoil rampant in his mind and heart.

 _Pregnant, his Hermione was pregnant..._

Wasn't it the _witch's_ responsibility not to get careless enough to get knocked up?

He swallowed his anxiety about the situation, and shook his head angrily. The brunette witch would keep her mouth shut, if she knew what was good for her. He spent way _too much_ time and effort in securing the Weasley family to be his own, and _some_ witch, friend or not, did not have the right to _interfere_ with his plans, even if he considered her _his_ in a way. Unfortunately she was _not_ his _Queen-to-be_ , she _could not_ be, when his plans depended on the family of redheads.

A slow, calculating smirk tugged at his lips, thinking about how naive and open-hearted the Weasleys were. Well, _sure_ , he knew that they longed for the perks of being close to him, but he had more money that he could spend in three lifetimes, let alone in one. He could afford to spoil them rotten, and that made them a very willing, albeit unknowing, accomplice in his plans to take over the wizarding world.

Fighting in this bloody war made him realize that there was merit in Voldemort's, and Dumbledore's plans for being on top of the power game, but their tactics were rather _lacking_.

Discriminating between _Dark_ and _Light_ , _Pureblood_ and _Muggleborn_ were all brutish ways to get to the top. He had _no_ problems with bloodlines, nor did he particularly care about the type of magic the wizarding world used. All he cared about was _power_ , and with no dividing political and magical elements, he would have a much better chance to draw in his own inner circle of powerful magic wielders, his _eager-to-please_ minions.

Harry chuckled darkly at the thought that he was pretty much already more influential with the public, than the _Dark_ and _Light Lords_ of the _past_ could ever hope to be, as they were indebted to his heroics in saving them from their reign. It was such a genius move on his part, that he wanted to pet himself on the shoulder for a good job done.

Now, he just needed to plot and plan how to subtly get into power with the Ministry as well.

When he finally reached the apparation point, he spun around his heel, and visualized the back garden of the Burrow. The raven-haired wizard wanted to have a little chat with Ron, to influence him towards a position of power, that actually suited him well, and discourage him from playing professional Quidditch.

His redheaded friend was slightly flighty in tough situations, but at the end of the day, he always stood by his side, and with some proper training, the youngest Weasley boy could be a right powerhouse, and he had plans to utilize that.

Harry's feet landed with a noisy thud on the soft soil of Molly's garden, the tall grass lightly brushing against his knees. His nostrils flared at the sweet scent of flowers, and freshly baked treacle tarts, which made him curl his lips into another smirk. His adoptive mother figure surely knew how to treat him well, and he would reward that later, and buy Molly something nice. A new magical stove perhaps? An updated wardrobe for the family? He would have to sniff around and see what she would prefer.

He walked into the house, his smirk morphing into a happy grin at the sight of Ron and Ginny playing wizard chess. He cleared his throat, and a blurry redheaded missile crushed into him, kissing him for all she was worth. Harry's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, and tasting her soft lips.

The wizard could not help but compare her taste to Hermione's. They were obviously very different witches, and their kisses were _Heaven_ and _Earth_.

The curly-haired witch lit his insides on fire, and fueled his desire to possess all of her, she was simply _his_ , in every sense of the word, even if he had chosen Ginny and told Hermione that she could not compare - _she really could not compare, as the young woman was so much more to him, yet, she would have to remain his dirty little secret, and he liked that_ -, and he would take his time _reminding_ her of that.

The striking beauty wrapped in his arms was desirable, but he did not feel the earth-shattering need to possess her. Oh, she was _his_ , as she would always be, but there was something exciting about the _forbidden_ fruit.

Ginevra's allure was her shiny red hair, and her beautiful doe eyes, with those shapely long legs that just screamed sexuality, and he had no doubt she was a wild cat between the sheets. With her, he saw a future. He could easily mold her to be his _Queen_ , she would not rule, _oh no_ , but she would make a charming trophy wife to show off, that Hermione would never agree to be.

Harry did _not_ need, nor did he want an equal partnership, which was one of the most important reasons with rejecting his bookworm. He wanted power, absolute d _ictatorship_ , and his delectable Granger would fight with all her might against that. That would be _bothersome_ , because he had no intention in breaking her spirit, or her body, no he did _not_ want to actually physically hurt her, and he would have to do that in order to tame her.

 _Where was the fun in that?_

Hermione Granger was better left the way she was, feisty and powerful. If he played his cards right, he could eventually lure her to his side, using her brilliant mind for his purposes. He might have to play dirty and seduce her further, but it would be a worthy _sacrifice_.

Harry inwardly snorted. _'As if it would be a sacrifice to have her writhing under me again...'_ , he moaned at the thought, which Ginny assumed was generated by her kiss.

"Hello love," She purred huskily.

Harry pulled back a bit, twirling a lock of her flaming tresses around his left index finger. "It's good to see you, babe." He winked cheekily. "How are things?"

She giggled girlishly at his flirting, and pulled him towards Ron. "We were just finishing another game, although Ron keeps beating me." She pouted.

Ron looked up at her sister with a smirk. "That's because you don't have an ounce of strategy in that pretty little head of yours, Gin."

She scowled, brandishing her wand, ready to hex her brother, when Harry simply locked his arms around her. " _Harry!_ " She squeaked. "Let me go, Ron needs to learn a lesson." She shouted, her eyes darkening with a promise of revenge.

Ron was smart enough to placate her. "Come on, Gin, you know I did not mean it like _that_." He sighed. "I was just saying that strategy is not your thing, but that does not mean you are not absolutely amazing..." His voice trailed off soothingly.

Harry smirked at Ron from behind the curtain of the witch's hair, at the very _Slytherin_ tactic that he was using on her. It was a shared secret of theirs, that the Hat wanted to put them both into Slytherin, but they practically demanded a place in Gryffindor.

Ginny visibly sagged against Harry's chest. "Oh, okay. I am sorry for accusing you of ill intent, Ron." She smiled. "I will go and get us some _Butterbeer_ and a piece of treacle tart from the kitchen." She murmured, and kissed Harry's cheek.

When she was out of sight, Harry turned towards his friend with a grin. "That was nicely done, mate." He complimented him.

Ron grinned back at his best friend. "I had years of practice with placating her, I am surprised she had not caught on yet." He shrugged.

Harry chuckled. "Indeed." He nodded. "I actually did not come to visit with your sister, I wanted to discuss something with you." He admitted, his tone serious.

"Oh?" Ron asked, raising a pale red brow.

"Well, I was discussing career opportunities with Sirius and Remus, and I decided that I wanted to be Auror." He shared.

"Yeah? I kind of figured you would like to follow in your father's footsteps." He paused, and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I talked with Dad about opportunities, and decided to pursue a career in Quidditch. The Chudley Cannons are having a try out session tomorrow, as their Keeper had recently had an accident." He explained with a bright smile plastered on his face.

"That's great Ron!" Harry exclaimed. "Although I thought that you would like to come with me to be an Auror..." He added in a purposefully hesitant voice. "But, I understand your passion for flying." He paused dramatically. "Did you know that the Auror Department has a _Flying Squad_? They all have _Firebolts_ ," He dangled the bait.

This Department was a new addition, that Kingsley sanctioned at his behest, because he saw the reason in his request. After all, who could ever deny _The Boy Who Conquered_?

Ron's eyes widened comically. "They do?" He echoed. "The Cannons only fly on Nimbus brooms..." He frowned. "Hey Harry, do you think I have the potential to be an Auror?"

"Oh, Ron, you have no idea..." He grinned at his victory.

If every part of his plans went this smoothly, then the wizarding world would soon have a new ruler in their midst...

~oo~oOo~oo~

Meanwhile, Hermione was gripping the side of the table she sat at _so_ fiercely, that her knuckles were white from the pressure, and she was struggling to breathe properly. She never felt so _humiliated_ in her entire life, that she did when Potter snarked at her, gloating about his feelings for his perfect little redheaded _Princess_ , while talking down to her, like..., like she was merely _dirt_ under his shoes.

What happened to the boy, who was kind enough to save a bossy little swot from a mountain troll?

What happened to the warm-hearted friend, who stood up for those, who were too afraid to stand up for themselves?

When did Harry become so _cold_ and _unfeeling,_ and so _ready_ to throw his _fame_ around?

And most importantly, how could she _fail_ so _spectacularly_ at noticing these disturbing changes in him, before they were blatantly thrown into her face?

Hermione had shut her eyes tightly, her lips pressing into a thin line, as her brain was viciously denying that the boy she was in love with could be so _horrible_. There had to be some kind of mistake here.

Glistening teardrops pooled in the corners of her eyes, as she was fighting an inner battle with the harsh reality that slapped her in the face. _'Grow up Granger, and accept the fact that not everything is as it seems, and even you cannot know every little thing...'_ she reprimanded herself, her body trembling.

The muggleborn witch stiffened, as she heard faint footsteps, a whoosh of fabric, and a soft thud, as someone invited themselves to sit at the very table she had occupied. Her blood had frozen in her veins, when she heard the familiar sarcastic drawl, and the soft clink of a potion vial being shoved her way.

"You better drink this, Miss Granger, it would be unseemly to have a panic attack in such a public area." Severus Snape said smoothly, as he cast a subtle _Muffliato Charm_.

Hermione opened her eyes, her eyelashes beaded with salty mist, her gaze examining the _Calming Draught_ in front of her. It was not like she did not trust Snape's brewing abilities, because he was brilliant, but she was rather unsure, if it was a good idea to drink a potion in her current _condition_.

"I am uncertain whether that would be appropriate, sir." She said in a small, hesitant voice.

Severus raised a well-shaped brow. "Why ever not, Miss Granger, surely you are not insinuating that I would poison _The Brightest Witch of Her Age_ in broad daylight, surrounded by a handful of potential witnesses?" He asked, with the slightest upward twitch of his lips.

Hermione couldn't help herself, and snorted. "Hardly." She said quietly, but did not offer any further explanation.

The dark wizard studied the witch in front of him, and if he was honest with himself, what he saw bothered him immensely. The insufferable little chit was paler and much thinner, than he remembered her, not to mention the obvious tell-tale signs of her distress. He was well aware of the role she played in the war, and that she had a rather difficult year, but he suspected that Granger's emotional disquiet had to do with Potter.

Severus' eyes trailed her petite form, since she entered the Leaky, and he witnessed the curious exchange between Potter and her, from a distance. It was obvious to everyone with a functioning pair of eyes that their conversation was awkward, and from the _Gryffindor Princess_ ' body language, he surmised that their chat had quickly turned into something painfully _unpleasant_.

The Potions Master was almost sad to find that he was disappointed that Potter seemed to prove that he was indeed as arrogant as his father was in his prime. He actually never thought he would see the day, when the dunderhead treated the muggleborn witch so abysmally in public, but it appeared that there were _some_ things, that even _he_ could not predict.

"Does your hesitation have _something_ to do with Potter?" He asked pointedly, and saw the bookworm stiffen further, if that was even possible.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat, and she slightly panicked. "I-, I don't see how t-that is any of your b-business, sir." She choked.

There was a flicker of recognition in Severus Snape's eyes, and he had to slam down his Occlumency shields even tighter, not to show the simmering anger that was threatening to overtake him. "Miss Granger," He paused. " _...Hermione_ , may I call you Hermione?" He asked quietly, and received a stunned nod. "I assure you, that the potion won't interfere with your _condition_. A _Calming Draught_ is created with harmless ingredients, mostly herbs, as you know." He explained.

The witch's eyes widened comically at the realization that Snape knew about - _oh she had absolutely no doubt that he knew_ \- her pregnancy.

"Professor Snape-" Her voice wavered, but he interrupted.

"Severus," He insisted. "You have my permission to use my name, Hermione."

She blushed slightly at the oddly kind gesture, which amused the wizard, and stumbled over her words. " _S-severus_ , please don't tell anyone about this." She swallowed. "Harry made it abundantly clear that he would ruin me, if..." Her voice trailed off, as she shut her eyes tightly, her knuckles whitening further at her tightening grasp on the table.

"Potter is an imbecile!" Severus sneered, his anger flashing through his shield. He stood up, gently unfurling her small hands from the edge of the table. "Relax witch," He whispered softly, his long fingers tenderly touching her temples. "You need to drink the potion to calm down, and then I will take you to see Minerva."

Hermione's shoulders slumped at the comforting touch. His fingertips were cold, a welcome sensation on her skin. She looked up at him, her eyes full of questions. "Professor McGonagall? Why would you take me to her?" She inquired.

He sighed. "Because I am not well equipped to care for young witches, nor do I think it would be proper." He explained. "However, Minerva is well versed with dealing with such situations..." He alluded to something, Hermione had no energy to even ponder about.

She nodded her consent and quaffed the potion without a word, her body relaxing, as the liquid trickled down her system. "Thank you." She sighed with relief, as her tightly wound nerves had unwound.

Severus nodded, and helped her to stand. "Are you well enough to apparate, or should we use the Leaky's Floo connection?"

Hermione worried her lips for a few moments. "I think that the Floo would be more appropriate for now."

"Alright." He hummed, as he cast a few privacy charms to protect from undesirable interlopers overseeing them, and with an arm firmly wrapped around her waist to steady her, he took off to find Tom.

* * *

 **A/N:** Last night my Muse had a brainwave, in which I asked myself the question: " _What if instead of the Weasleys using Harry, like it's written in a sea of fanfiction plots, he would use them instead?_ " It's a premise I have never seen done before, thus I am super freaking excited to write about it.

The Harry in this story is power hungry, and slightly insane, however as far as I planned for now, he won't be murdering people. He will use his connection to the Weasley family, to further his standings in the wizarding world, and plot world dominance.

As for Hermione, Severus is taking her under his wings, and potentially will end up with her, and be the father figure for her child, at least that's the plan for now. I cannot guarantee that my Muse won't change it, because it's flighty, thus I won't mark it in the character slot.

Anyway, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed my lunatic chapter.


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